History
by faelyn leaf
Summary: Harry dies and has a conversation with the bravest man he ever knew. A goodbye letter from me to Harry Potter, ten months in making.


Harry died with his eyes closed and a smile on his face.

It wasn't sudden, he had been older than Dumbledore, and like the youngest Peverell, he decided to meet death like a friend. After all, they were equals, and Harry had met him once before. Still, it was somewhat of a shock that when he opened his eyes, he found himself in a Muggle playground. That wasn't what he had expected at all.

He noticed the sweetness of the air, the rejuvenation of his previously aching limbs, and the lack of wrinkles on his arms. Yes, he was definitely dead. It wasn't a hallucination. He was reminded a bit of the confusion when he had stepped in the King's Cross afterlife the first time he died. But, it was different this time, he'd had a choice back then. Even though he had been cured of his age, Harry knew there was no going back this time.

Harry studied the playground. It was a typical Muggle fare: a swing set, slide, sandbox, cricket field, but he knew there was something familiar about it, although he wasn't sure what it was.

"Potter?" an acid voice jolted Harry out of his thoughts.

"Snape?" Harry asked incredulously. He couldn't help it, there before him, sitting underneath a tree was a young boy, no more than ten or elven. He had the same black, oily hair, sallow skin and hooked nose of his former professor.

"Don't stare, Potter!" There was a book in his hands, and Snape had put it down to yell.

Harry suppressed the urge to laugh at the boy before him and tell him to respect his elders. How long had it been since his grandchildren – or even _great_ grandchildren – had been that age? How long had it been since he had to really deal with sulky, pre-pubescent boys? Too long. He'd forgotten how to do it. He'd have to improvise. Harry threw up his hands in defeat. "Okay, Severus."

The boy seemed placated and nodded sharply. "I don't suppose you'd care to tell me what you're doing here, Potter?"

Harry honestly didn't know. He'd expected to see Ginny, Hermione, Ron, maybe even Sirius ... not a not quit adolescent Snape. "I'm not sure. I died and woke up here." He frowned, "I thought I'd be at King's Cross. What is this place?"

"It's a playground, Potter. I thought it would be obvious even to you." The boy was quiet for a moment, and he seemed almost frightened, "I think it's Hell," he whispered quietly. The boy picked up his previously discarded book and held it to his chest protectively. Harry noticed with some detachment that Snape had been reading _Hogwarts: A History_, of all things.

"What?"

"Perhaps the mighty "Chosen One" is surprised to find himself here?"

Chosen One, Harry'd almost forgot that particular nickname. "Why are you here, Severus?"

The boy shrugged his shoulders petulantly, the fear momentarily forgotten in his antagonism. "Where else should I be?"

Harry stared. Couldn't the boy feel the peace of the place, smell the sweetness in the air? Snape settled into silence, and Harry felt awkward. "I found your pensieve," he said finally.

Snape paled, but didn't look surprised. "I did leave it for you to find, Potter."

Harry ignored him. "An Order of Merlin First Class was rewarded to you posthumously."

"I don't care about trinkets!"

Calmly, before it got out of hand, Harry said, "I realise that, _Professor. _It was just our way, my way, of showing our gratitude. And apologising.

The soothing balm of Severus's old title calmed the boy down. Instead of being angry, Snape looked tired. "What do you have to be sorry about?"

"We didn't trust you," Harry explained. "You were a bastard," Ginny would kill him for cursing in front of a child if she found out, "and you earned our hate, but you deserved our trust. We judged you because you were Slytherin and a former Death Eater. It wasn't fair."

"Nothing in life is fair, Potter," the boy shrugged. "You saw me use the Killing Curse on Dumbledore, and I expected that even you would reach the obvious, logical conclusion."

"That you were a murderer."

"Yes."

"Albus trusted you enough to kill him."

The boy looked at him with piercing black eyes, "That, I'm afraid, doesn't mean a wit when no one else knows, or can know, the reasons behind it."

Harry nodded. What could see say? It was Ginny, more than himself, who had always been good at this sort of thing. Ginny, Merlin he wanted to see her. Instead, though, he was stuck with a peevish, child version of Severus Snape. Well, one thing at a time, he supposed.

"Why are you here, Severus?" Harry asked again.

This time, the boy was not frightened or angry. "I suppose this place was created just so we could act out this little drama, and you could alleviate your guilt, Potter. I thought the Chosen One would have known that."

It was odd, to say the least. Severus Snape couldn't be more than eleven, and yet he had vitriol, not to mention personality, of his adult self. Harry grinned to himself, the boy was exactly like his adult self had been. Ron'd been right: Snape never had grown up. "I highly doubt that."

"What, and suddenly you're the expert? Of course you are, Potter, you are the _Chosen One_, after all."

"Humour me, at least."

"Aren't you supposed to be an Auror?"

"How'd you know that?"

Snape pointed to _Hogwarts: A History_. "I read it," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh. Well, look. If you tell me, maybe I can find a way out of here. We're not supposed to really end up here, you know."

"_You_ aren't, maybe."

"Severus, please."

"I met _her_ here."

What? Oh. Oh! "My mum, you mean."

"Yeah." The boy wouldn't meet his eyes, but the faint flush to his cheeks reminded Harry of just how _young_ Snape was.

"Okay, that's something. When I died the first time, I was at King's Cross. It was a transition, sort of the place between life and death. I think that's what this is, too.

Snape rolled his eyes. "King's Cross. Only you would come up with a metaphor that obvious, Potter. I still think it's Hell."

"Why's that?"

"You're the first person I've seen, and I hate you! And this," he threw the history text on the ground, "this, is the only book. I don't even like _Hogwarts: A History_, and even though it keeps changing, it gets boring!"

Snape acting like a child, _never_. Harry decided to ignore the outburst. "When I was at King's Cross, I was given a choice. I could go on, or go back." Harry frowned, "It wasn't an option to stay. It shouldn't be an option for you to stay, either."

"I, I have to," the boy admitted.

"You have to?"

"She hates me. I can't go."

He was afraid to move on because of that? "I'm sure she doesn't." Harry suddenly wished he'd actually read the Muggle child psychology books Hermione had given him when James was born. Or the ones she gave when he and Ginny babysat their grandchild, Emily, for the first time.

"She does. She told me so."

Realistically, Harry could sympathise with his mother. He had seen what Snape did to her in the pensieve, after all. But ... but the Severus here was only a child. Harry sighed and reminded himself that he really did love children. All children.

He was dead and shouldn't be able to feel tired any more, but suddenly Harry felt very, very exhausted. He sat down underneath the same tree as Severus. "You made some bad choices, and they hurt her."

"I guess so."

"You tried to change them, but she died before you could tell her."

Snape frowned and looked at him sharply. "Why are you telling me this? I already know!"

"I'm just trying to understand it all."

"Well, it would take you longer than average to grasp simple facts."

"Did you ever think that maybe she knows? That she saw what you did for her?"

The boy's eyes went wide, "Of course not! She's dead!"

"So are we, but look, you said you read what happened to me from that book. Maybe she has something like that. Maybe she was even able to watch without a book."

The look in the boy's eyes told him he hadn't thought of it. "So what," Snape said eventually, "why would she even care to look?"

"Well," Harry said tentatively, "in the very least she saw you protecting me."

"It always goes back to you, doesn't it, Potter?"

"I'm her child!" Harry said, loosing his temper. He forced himself to calm down, "She was with me. I know she was."

"Humph."

"Severus," Harry said gently, "you don't have to be afraid of her."

"I'm not! I faced down the Dark Lord himself and lied to him on a daily basis, I am not afraid of her!"

"Of what she thinks of you, then?"

"Maybe."

"Severus, I would kiss Draco Malfoy on the mouth if he saved the life of one of my children. I think you earned her forgiveness by now." Harry grinned, amused at his own joke.

"Ew! Would you?"

"Any day of the week."

"Hmmm," was all the boy said.

Harry felt a light tug pushing his body, and knew, instinctively that his time with Snape was over. "I think it's almost time for me to go. Are you coming?"

"Not yet, Potter, but perhaps soon."

"Will you be all right?"

Snape looked him like he had two heads. "It is no wonder everyone believed that you needed remedial potion lessons, Potter."

Harry nodded. It wasn't as if he could force Snape to leave with him. The boy would either come when he was ready, or stay. At least he had caused Snape to think about it. As it was, Harry had his own family to meet. He could feel them calling him, and it was his time to be with them again, finally. _Ginny_, Harry thought, ecstatically. "Goodbye, Severus."

"Goodbye, Potter," the boy whispered. And then Harry was gone.

Severus Snape picked up _Hogwarts: A History_ and flipped through the pages. It had already changed again, just in the time he had spent talking with Potter. Maybe Lily didn't really hate him, maybe it was time to move on, but Severus didn't want to leave, not just yet. He turned back to the book and tried to concentrate on the pages when he felt it being tugged out of his hands.

"Potter, I thought –" Snape looked up: it wasn't Harry.

Instead, a little girl with red pigtails and bright green eyes was looking down at him and beaming. She grabbed his hands and giggled at his stunned expression. "C'mon, Sev, let's go on the swing. You spend all your time reading. One day of not doing homework won't kill you!"

"Lily? I thought you hated me, why didn't you come before?"

"Silly, I was waiting for you to see me! Let's play!"

Severus stood up and hugged her until she squirmed out of his grasp. "The swing?" she prompted again, laughing as she raced towards the object of her desire.

Severus smiled, and ran to join her on the playground.


End file.
